No, you're not prying, I don't mind telling my story. My mental health history
and background of abuse essentially prohibits me from adopting according to
state regs. No one wants to give a baby to someone who's taken the ride on the
Disorient Express, to quote "Barney Miller." It is the will of Waheguru, our
divine creator, that I have this ovarian nuisance; and His/Her will as well that
I have this blockade of mental illness that I must continue to chip away until
either I die or it does. I have no regrets. Louie and I give to the future by
assisting the Girl Scouts, especially in poor districts, and in things like
speaking to the Sikh youth about tolerance and overcoming prejudice. (It has not
been easy being the only non-Indian in the Sikh community, on either side.) I
want to take this to a grander scale by working with the Holocaust Resource
Center and Jewish Family Services as a descendant of a Holocaust survivor, and
teach about abuse and tolerance in schools and perhaps in the prison system
where men are rehabbing from being abusers. If I can keep someone from someday
raising hands to a child, I'll have done an even greater good.

On a lighter side, I do get to be an Auntie, and Aunties get to have all the
fun. I don't mean an Auntie only to actual nieces and nephews. Among Sikhs an
older lady with whom one is on friendly terms is called Auntie (Chaachee.) I get
to do all the stuff that parents never do, like teach the kids to sing "Greasy
Grimy Gopher Guts" or "Johnny Had a Steamboat," and how to burp REALLY loud.
There is something in small children that appreciates such subversive things,
and it is part of North American folklore; but it always has to come from a
non-parent relative, friend-of-family or Scout leader or suchlike. And while I'm
doing that, I'll be telling them about how the kitties stole the ham or how
Brandy fell into the toilet. Maybe, despite what the state says, I might make a
good mother, I don't know; and we haven't the resources for private adoption. I
trust in the will of my creator. If Guruji wants to open that door for us,
believe me, it'll happen. That's one of God's job attributes, and the difference
between God and a puny human schmuck like me.

Blessed be,
Baha

PS: to burp really loud, when the gas is about to come up, open your jaws wide
but round out your mouth to a small O shape. This gives resonance, kind of like
singing in the Hollywood Bowl.